Dark Black Night
by x-HotMess
Summary: Take these broken wings and learn to fly; another Hailsham student's story /Never Let Me Go/
1. Hailsham

I was in fourth year when Hailsham closed its doors. I was moved to Aberdeen with Penelope, Emma D., Rachel, Greg S. and Harry, who was a year older than the rest of us and let Emma D. use his handkerchief when she was crying on the train. We never found out how life turned out for everyone else, but we all stuck together through our years in Scotland.

Miss Emily told us that we would all be missed dearly at our final assembly, but Bethany P., a sour girl that everyone often avoided who has chosen to sit next to me that day, whispered in my ear that we wouldn't be missed, we were going to be treated like cows out in the paddock and sleep in the same bed and we would all have to walk around without shoes on. Penelope told her to shut her mouth and called her a rude name that made me blush and giggle.

"You won't think she's so funny when you're fighting her for the last drops of gruel, Whilemina," Bethany P. snarled, and she flounced off as the assembly came to a close.

"Ignore her, Whil," Penelope took my hand and led me up the stairs to our dormitory. It was quiet as the door swung open, apart from the sound of Emma D.'s sniffles.

"Bethany P. says we're all going somewhere different and we'll never see each other again," Teresa immediately ran up to Penelope with a stricken look on her face, "and I can't get Emma D. to shut up."

Penelope immediately released my hand and went to hug Emma D.

"Now you just stop this nonsense," she scolded lightly. "Bethany P. is a silly cow, and I'm sure wherever we're all going shall be just as nice as Hailsham, and even if we are apart, we will make new friends that we'll love just as much as we love each other."

I don't think she believed that herself, but I always admired her relentless optimism. Even after the most awful days at Aberdeen, I could always count on Penelope to make me smile.

Emma D. was still crying the next day, because Rachel had reminded her that she might not be going to the same place as her boyfriend Nicholas. Emma D. was the first and only girl in our year to have a boyfriend, and she didn't much like the idea of having to give up that title, although when Harry put his arm around her shoulders as we were going through Edinburgh she didn't seem to mind so much.

Not long after that, she fell asleep, as did the others, until Harry and I were the only ones who were awake. Too restless to close my eyes, I pulled out my satchel from under my seat and opened it.

Harry peered at me curiously as I pulled out a shabby old book and began to read. I could feel his eyes on me, and shifted uncomfortably in my set for a few minutes before looking up.

"What?" I demanded.

"Did you get that book at a Sale?" he asked, head cocked slightly to the side.

"Of course," I lied.

I hadn't really gotten it at a Sale. One day when I was looking for oddly-shaped rocks on the path behind the main house, I hadn't noticed one of my shoelaces became untied, and I tripped over it. I slammed my hand against the brick wall to steady myself, but the slab crumbled under my hand and I fell flat on my face. Forcing back tears, I looked at what had caused my fall. Where the brick had come away was a small hollow in the wall. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it contained a beaded necklace, a book with a mouldy cover, a spinning top, and a cassette tape with a cracked case. Most of the inside cover had rotted away, but I could still see parts of the picture; cigarette smoke, the word 'song', a hand with red nail varnish. I knew if I took these things back up to the dormitory, Penelope would ask me where I got them, and for some reason, I wanted the secret hideaway to remain a secret. So I replaced the brick and walked away.

I hadn't gone back until the night before I left Hailsham. Miss Emily had told us in the assembly that we would all be leaving the next morning, and I couldn't bear the thought of those abandoned items never being discovered because I had refused to share my secret. So after Emma D. had cried herself to sleep and Penelope had stopped tossing and turning, I slipped over to Teresa's bed and borrowed her flashlight from her shelf. She had showed us how you needed to smack it three times before it turned on properly, and so once I was in the corridor I hit it against the palm of my hand and it flickered to life.

I was nearly seen twice as I tiptoed around the halls of Hailsham. The first time was in the entrance hall, when two seniors emerged from the darkness right in front of me. I froze, my heart pounding with panic as I switched off the light. But they didn't notice me; they were attached at the lips, and they collapsed into the broom closet next to the doors of the main entrance. I waited until I heard soft moans before I dared rattle my torch back to life and made my way outside.

I coiled the necklace around my wrist, put the cassette and top in my pocket, and clutched the book to my chest as I snuck back to my bed. As I made my way up the stairs, I heard footsteps coming towards me. I shrunk back into the shadows on the landing, praying whoever it was remained on the second floor. A door opened and a voice echoed out from the room, '_yes, the bus should take a right at the red letterbox'_. The door clicked shut and the voice was muted. I hurried up the rest of the stairs and stuffed my new treasures into my satchel I had packed for the next day's departure. Then I extinguished Teresa's torch and put it back on her shelf.

She was already gone by the time we woke up.

"I heard they took all the blonde children to Wales, because they're the prettiest ones," Greg S. breathed scandalously to Rachel and me as we huddled together over out breakfast.

"Don't be stupid, Bethany P. fell off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, and they took her too," Rachel smirked half-heartedly, and we all forced a laugh, wondering who else would disappear without having a chance to say goodbye.

The overbearing silence of waiting became too much, so I dug around in my satchel and pulled out the mildewed book I had smuggled from its hiding place. I peeled back the cover and unstuck the first few pages. As I thumbed the leaves of paper, a chunk came unstuck from the spine, and the sheets fluttered to the ground. I bent over to pick them up as Penelope wandered over to me.

"What's that?" she pointed to the book in my lap as I quickly rammed the assorted pages in the back.

"Nothing," I shoved it back in my satchel and stood up abruptly. "When are we leaving?"

"The next bus is for children going to Aberdeen," she replied, staring at my satchel where the book had disappeared. "Miss Emily says we can get on it together, if you like."

A sense of relief washed over me with the knowledge that would not have to be separated from Penelope. I took her hand and we walked over to Miss Emily, standing rigidly in the entrance hall with a clipboard. Her gaze wandered over to us, and she scribbled something on the clipboard, and nodded towards the door.

"Goodbye Penelope, Whilemina," she sighed, her voice thick. "I wish you the best."

Although she appeared unmoved by the dwindling number of students remaining, I could see in her eyes the reflection of utter devastation. I took a step towards her, and wrapped my arms around her waist. She stiffened, and remained so even when I let go. She just stared at me, mouth agape, even as the bus pulled up to the steps and Penelope and I got on.

"Why did you hug Miss Emily, Whil?" Harry asked me from the seat in front of us.

"She seemed sad," I shrugged, staring at my hands and disliking the feeling that I had somehow violated an unspoken rule.

Greg S. got on after us, and went and sat by himself up the back. His best friend Peter had been put on the previous bus to Southampton. Finally, Rachel pulled Emma D. up the bus steps, where she immediately collapsed on the front seat and whined loudly about how much she missed Teresa. Rachel met my eyes and pulled a face, but sat down next to Emma D. anyway and patted her on the back. After another five minutes, the doors squeaked shut and the bus pulled away. Nobody spoke until we reached the train station. The bus driver gave us little orange pieces of paper, took us to the cart where we were to sit, and told us not to move until the train stopped and someone from the Aberdeen donor facility got on board to collect us.

"How will we know that they're from Aberdeen?" Rachel piped up.

"Because they'll bloody tell ya, won't they?" the bus driver growled as he disembarked the train.

While everyone else talked in small voices, my mind remained on the partially destroyed book in my satchel. I wondered if I would be able to fix it so all the pages would be in order and I wouldn't miss any of the story. So I decided when I opened it, I would read it and when there was a piece missing, I would search the loose pages in the back for the rest of it, as I didn't want to spoil the plot by reading the middle parts to try and find out where they belonged. So I had just started the first chapter when Harry interrupted me with his intense staring.

"What's it about?" he leaned forward eagerly, careful not to wake Emma D. who was dozing on his shoulder.

"I only just started. It's about a little boy who's orphaned, and he does a nice thing for a dangerous stranger," I reply loftily, looking back down at the book.

"Do you like it?" Harry continued, and I sighed in exasperation.

"Well, I'm not sure yet. I'm trying to read it, but it's hard when someone is talking to me at the same time," I frowned.

Harry's face fell and he sat back in his seat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to annoy you. I just like books, is all. I've never had one of my own."

"No, I'm sorry, Harry," my tone softened and I shut the book. "It's been a difficult day, and I'm very tired, but that's no excuse for rudeness."

He smiled at me sympathetically. "It's fine. You should read your book. You'll need the escape. Who knows what'll happen when we get to Aberdeen."

"You can read it after me, if you want," I offered.

He wouldn't read it after me. It was taken off me when I reached Aberdeen, and I was told children like me had no need for literature, because what good would it do us? I never finished the jumbled story, and searched for years to finish the book I had started but never had the opportunity to finish.


	2. Aberdeen

I don't like to think about the three years I spent in Aberdeen. The days were filled with bitter loneliness and we were put to work almost immediately after we arrived. I was assigned to be a stitcher with Emma D. in the beginning, because we had done some crocheting at Hailsham. After a few months, I was moved to become a presser, and by the summer I had become a packer. The other children were distant, and with us being from Hailsham, they felt somewhat threatened. Harry and Greg S. especially got smacked around several times, but none of us were immune from the hostility that radiated from everyone else at the facility.

Rachel said that she had tried asking another girl that she was fitting with when the summer break began, and the girl just laughed and spat at her. Harry was personally offended, and suggested that he go and teach the girl to show some respect, but Penelope diffused the tension by suggesting that the girl probably had a lot of practice spitting because of all the dick she sucked. Greg S. laughed and chimed in, adding that Rachel probably had cum on her dress, mixed in with the spit.

Penelope often pretended she knew more about sex than she really did, because I knew she had never done it. But that didn't stop her from talking like she had.

"I don't know why James gets out his willy to scare the supervisors with," she made the offhand comment one day about one of the particularly feral boys in our year, who had a perverse habit of flashing the females. "I mean, it's not big enough to be that scary."

And on an afternoon when we were in the shower block, we overheard some a girl talk about how much she wanted to have sex with Greg S. Rachel and I exchanged glances and rolled our eyes, and Emma D. giggled between us, but Penelope stood up with her face bright red.

"You'll find that to be a bit of a challenge," she said in a snide tone. "Greg doesn't much like used goods, if you know what I mean."

"Are you calling me a slut?" the girl faced up to Penelope, and Emma D. stood to take her arm as a warning gesture. "Or are you just jealous because you actually think you've got a shot with him?"

"I'm just saying that Greg likes girls who know how to behave to get boys to respect them," Penelope retorted with a false air of indifference, "like we were taught back at Hailsham."

"Penny, _don't_," Rachel warned.

"Yeah, listen to your friends, you condescending bitch," the furious girl was nose to nose with Penelope. "You're not at Hailsham anymore. This is the real world. Sex has nothing to do with respect. You'd do best to learn that before you get _hurt_."

The dangerous emphasis she put on the last syllable made my skin crawl, and as I moved to stand next to Penelope, the air around me was gluggy with tension. I forced myself to breathe in and out as the girl left the shower block and Penelope was left shaking with fury.

"What the hell, Penelope?" Rachel burst out. "You're lucky she didn't beat the snot out of you."

"Do _you_ want to have sex with Greg, Penny?" Emma D. asked incredulously.

"No!" Penelope objected in a voice that clearly told us she was lying. "I just think Greg deserves better. We all do. We're not like these other children. We're from Hailsham."

"But we're not at Hailsham anymore!" Rachel exclaimed. "There is nothing that makes us special! Nothing that means we deserve better! We're just like the rest of them, Penny. Get used to it."

Rachel stormed out of the shower block, and Penelope turned to me. "Don't listen to her. We are better. We were privileged once, at Hailsham, we were taught how to be real properly."

"But like Rachel said," Emma D. interjected, "we're not at Hailsham anymore. Maybe we're not as properly real as we think we are."

Her revelation surprised me, as I never would have thought a girl as silly and superficial as Emma D. could have thought so deeply about how we lived. It clearly flabbergasted Penelope too, as she stormed out of the shower block without saying another word.

Greg S. assured Penelope that he had never had sex with anyone else but her, but I think he was only saying that so as not to hurt her feelings. I had listened to some of the other girls talking before they started going out, and it seemed like he had pleasured at least three of them, if they weren't lying. But Penelope has always held her head up and scoffed that they were clearly only repeating hearsay from the boys about the penis sizes witnessed in their shower block.

When I was still at Hailsham, Teresa bought an old video tape at the Sales. Miss Geraldine let us use the VCR to watch it on the old television in the Art room. It turned out to be a movie about a boy named Ferris Bueller, who ran away from school for a day. I remember that even though some things went wrong, because he had people who loved him, everything worked out. I often imagined what it would be like to run away from Hailsham for a day, only to come back and no one would be the wiser. I would get Penelope to come with me, and we could walk down the lane to the strawberry field that I had heard the guardians talk about. We would eat as many strawberries as our stomachs could take, and when we came back everyone would wonder why we were so full if we had been sick all day and not had our breakfast, lunch or dinner.

I thought of Ferris Bueller a lot when I was in Aberdeen, but I didn't want to run away for just a day. I wanted to run away and never go back. But I knew I couldn't. I had nowhere to go, and no way to get there.

The week before I left, Rachel said she had sex with Greg S. I think she expected me to be surprised. I suppose I was a little bit, but I never expected Greg S. to be faithful to Penelope. I didn't see why anyone of us expected anything from one another.

"Do you think I should tell Penelope?" she whispered scandalously. "I mean, if Greg doesn't want to be with her…"

"Did he tell you he didn't want to be with her?" I interrupted.

Rachel's eyes widened. "Why would he have sex with me if he could have it with Penelope? I'm telling you, he's over her."

"I think Greg S. just likes sex. I don't think he really cares who it's with," I shrugged, turning my attention back to the television.

Rachel went silent, and for a moment I forgot she was there. But then she tossed her hair and stared at me defiantly. "You don't know what you're talking about. You've never even done it."

"So?" I glared at her.

"So you should just sleep with Harry and get it over with," she giggled, and I hit her with a cushion. "You know he wants to sex you up. He wants to kiss you all over, ooh, go all night long, yeah."

"He's just my friend," I tried not to smile, but Rachel's laughter was infectious and we were both shaking with it by the time the other seniors yelled at us to get out of the rec room.

We ran down the hallway and into the dingy courtyard, where we collapsed in laughter. Limpy Pete the caretaker glanced over at us before he rolled his eyes and went back to fixing his dilapidated lorry. I liked Limpy Pete, although he was never particularly friendly to any of us. But he did tell some funny stories when we cornered him into conversation in his breaks, especially about his fat, red-faced wife who once threw a saucepan full of boiling potatoes at him, which hit him in the leg and earned him his nickname. When he was in a good mood he would sneak us some chocolate that he picked up with his groceries, and once he tried to teach me how to play guitar.

Rachel had stopped laughing and stood up suddenly, elbowing me in the side. I looked up and saw Harry walking towards us, and begged her silently not to say anything.

"Speak of the devil," she smirked, and my face flushed as Harry's eyes lit up eagerly.

"What were you saying about me, you little twits," he grinned as he slung an arm over each of our shoulders.

"How you need to shower, smelly," I shrugged him off and held my nose. "Pee-yew."

In one swift movement, I was being lifted off of the ground and swung around as Harry wrapped his arms around me and picked me up. I let out a shriek and kicked my legs wildly and we all started laughing again. Someone on one of the higher floors screamed at us to shut up out the window, and we scuttled back inside, covering our mouths. Looking back, I'm astonished that we managed to find the time to even smile sometimes. It didn't even feel like there was a proper distinction between night and day, not if you were scheduled the night shift three times a week. It got more consistent as we got older, more normal, but between the plastic tasting food, scratchy beds and peers that would sooner steal the shirt off your back than look at you, it was miserable.

Penny sat down next to me at breakfast the next morning with a smug look on her face.

"What?" I asked through a mouthful of bread.

"I saw you with Harry yesterday," she smirked.

"What's your point?" It seemed like everyone was rushing me to have sex with Harry without even asking if I liked him or not. He was a very nice-looking boy, and I considered him one of my closest friends; but there was a dent in him, a peculiar cavity that I just couldn't figure out, and I was certain that I would drown in there if I ever let myself fall in.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do when summer comes?" she asked warily.

"I hadn't thought about it," I lied.

I had thought about it. But every time I considered what would happen after I left Aberdeen, my brain came to a screeching halt and instead I went back to thinking about Hailsham, what I would be doing if we had stayed there until now, what we could have done, all the things we could have bought at the Sales, all the boys I could have kissed, all the books I could have read. And so I get lost in that world instead of facing my reality.

"Do you think you'll become a carer?" she observed me over her muddy tea.

"I don't know," I answered, suddenly very uncomfortable. "Maybe."

"Oh _do_, Whilemina, that way we can go to the same place, and you can bring Harry and I'll bring Greg and it will almost like we just left Hailsham instead," she gushed, and I took comfort in the fact that I was the only one still dreaming about Hailsham.

"What about Rachel and Emma D.? Shouldn't they come too?" I waved at both girls I mentioned as they entered the mess hall.

Penelope leaned forward, the tips of her pigtails skimming over the top of her porridge. "I'm certain Emma D. will want to go somewhere with her crowd, and I honestly don't see Rachel becoming a carer."

I made eye contact with Rachel as Greg S. came and sat next to Penelope, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She went pink, turned on her heel and stalked out of the mess hall, leaving Emma D. holding her tray and looking very confused. I turned my attention back to Penelope.

"And you see me becoming one? I think Rachel would make a great carer. Don't you think so, Greg?" the way I caught his eye told him that I knew.

"Oh, um, yeah, I guess," he stammered, jumping to his feet.

I never found out if he told Emma about Rachel. I don't expect it would have made a lot of difference. They'd be going their separate ways in a few shorts months anyway. But that didn't stop Penelope from trying to make sure everything went the way she wanted it to. She pulled me away from Rachel in the rec room a few nights later and took me up to the senior girls' wing where we slept.

"I've got it sorted out," she exclaimed. "You and me, we can go to the Lancaster houses, and then we can go on and be carers together until we have to donate."

My stomach knotted at the thought, and I wasn't sure. I knew this was the best outcome I could possibly ask for, being with Penelope for as long as possible, but for some reason I couldn't imagine a future with a discernable end. Perhaps living day to day had eroded away the messages they strived to nail to us at Hailsham, but I knew I didn't want Penelope's future she had planned for us. I didn't want any of it.

"I don't want to donate," I whispered. "I don't want to complete." As soon as I said it out loud, I realised I had never spoken truer words in my life.

Penelope's eyes flashed for a moment, before her hand drew back and she slapped me across the cheek.

"We all have to donate, and we all have to complete," she hissed. "We don't have a choice."

"Don't you think we should have the choice?" I raised my voice, and I heard scuffling outside the door. "What will they do if I refuse? They can't make me do it!"

"They can, and they will!" Penelope's voice became louder than mine, then she took a deep breath and took my face in her hands. "My little Whil. This isn't you talking. We've been here too long, and we've forgotten who we are. But at Lancaster we'll be away from all of this, all of them."

Something clicked in my mind, and I suddenly realised what she was doing. She knew Greg S. didn't want to be with her forever. Emma D. was part of the clique that smuggled in cigarettes and were locked in solitary but still somehow got the best food and clothes, and looked to stay there. Harry followed me everywhere like a puppy, but had no interest in her. And Rachel… she was jealous of her. Jealous of the friendship I had with her that she lacked. I was Penelope's only friend, and she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.

"Let me think," I backed away from her, already decided. I couldn't abandon her, but I did want to talk to Rachel to see if she could get a place in Lancaster too.

I went back down to the rec room to find her, but she had already left. All the remained were some senior boys, the ones who were mean to the younger kids and had sex with as many girls as they wanted.

"Hey baby, why don't you come over here and sit on my lap?" one of them called.

"Yeah, she's your type, ain't she, James?" another cackled. "You like them with legs up to their armpits!"

"He likes them with their legs over their armpits," I snapped, and they all roared with laughter as I left.

I had barely gotten down the hall when James caught up with me, smoothly gliding his hand along my backside. "Come on Whil, you know you want to."

"Only my friends get to call me Whil," I scowled, dodging his grasp. "And you'd better not try crap like this out there, you can get arrested, you know."

"I wanna be your friend, Whil," he continued where he left off. "I want to get to know you. All of you."

"The only thing you need to know is that I'm not interested," I quickened my pace, but he kept following me.

Suddenly I was being jerked sideways and shut somewhere dark, and I could feel his hot, slimy breath on my face.

"Everyone's interested in me," he pushed up against me, running his hands down my legs. "Just admit you want me. You want me in you, don't you, you dirty whore?"

"Get off me!" I tried hitting his face, but her grabbed both my wrists in hands and slammed me against the wall with his forearm. "Don't, James, get off!"

"I seen you round, you know," the scalding whisper burnt into me as he wrenched my skirt above my waist, and I started to cry, my pleas falling on deaf ears. "I seen you walking round here like you ain't nobody's business. You think you're too pretty for us, huh? You think you're better than me? Bitch, I'm going to show you how good I am."

All the buttons were ripped of my shirt, and I opened my mouth to scream, but he preceded it with a slap across my face that made my vision blur. I limply struggled, but he had one hand over my mouth and the other groping around my groin area, so I just closed my eyes and hoped that it wouldn't hurt.

"Hello?" a voice echoed in the corridor outside, and hope sprung up within me. I bit down on his hand and let out a choked wail.

"Fuck!' James swore, and he drew back his hand to slap me again, but the approaching footsteps reached wherever I was, light came flooding in through an open door and I cried out with relief.

A boy not much older than I was when I arrived at Aberdeen was staring at us, and I used the distraction to kick out at James, who doubled over in pain. I shoved my skirt back down and grabbed the hand of the boy, dragging him along behind me as I ran as far away from the storage cupboard where I was imprisoned.

I stopped short two floors up, outside the boys bathroom, and collapsed in a flood of tears.

"Thank you!" I gasped, wringing the hand of my young saviour. "You saved me!"

"Er…" he took a step backwards, clearly terrified of the mess of a girl in front of him. "Do you need me to get you anything?"

He needn't have bothered. I heard my name exclaimed from somewhere in the vicinity of my left, and the face of Greg S. blurred into my vision. He swore and yelled and the kid to go and get Harry and the others. He helped me to my feet, dabbed a dirty handkerchief under my eyes and didn't even flinch when I wiped my snotty face on his shirt. Soon Harry's strong arms were around my shoulders and I was blubbering into his chest as her rocked me back and forth. I felt myself falling into his crevice and my lungs clenched. No matter how tightly he held me, I felt like I was a million miles away, and it felt foreign and uncomfortable to me. Penelope was sitting at my feet, Rachel was patting my head, and somehow I ended up lying down in my bed, listening to my friends conspire.

"We have to tell the matron," Penelope insisted. "What else can we do?"

"It won't matter," Greg S. replied, "James'll just say that she asked for it."

"Look at her!" Harry fumed, gesticulating wildly. "Does she look like she was asking to be completely traumatised?"

"They don't care," Rachel murmured tiredly, saying what we all knew. "They don't give a rat's ass about us."

I drifted off into a fitful sleep, listening to Harry and Penelope plan a full scale attack. I came to as the sun was peeking over the horizon, and Penelope and Rachel were arguing in hushed tones.

"What do you mean there's no room for me? They haven't even handed out posting assignment requests yet!" Rachel hissed.

"You just can't come to Lancaster. There just won't be enough space," Penelope muttered in return.

"It's a big bloody place, I'm sure I can find somewhere that…" Rachel was cut off by Penelope's sharp inhalation.

"No! You can't come! Whil doesn't want you there! She's my best friend, not yours!"

Rachel came to the same realisation that I did earlier. "Penelope, I'm not trying to steal Whil away from you!" she whispered gently.

"But you have! You have already! She talks about Harry with you! She's always looking to include you in everything, even when it's meant to be just us! What do you think she was doing she was attacked? You're dragging her away from me and it's caused nothing but trouble!"

'You don't seriously blame me for that, do you?" Rachel retorted. "You're unbelievable, Penelope, truly. I don't think I'd want to go to Lancaster if you were going to be there anyway!"

"That suits me just fine! I'll ask Whil about it in the morning. Me or you. And I know who she'll choose," I could dimly make out a poisonous look on Penelope's face that I had never seen before.

"If she picks you, then she's not the person I thought she was," Rachel scoffed, storming out of the room.

I listened as Penelope slowly lay down in her bed, and through the snuffling sounds of her sleep, I heard the rumbling of Limpy Pete's lorry down in the courtyard. In that moment, I decided I would leave. I would be Ferris Bueller. I slunk out of bed and changed into the best clothes that I owned that hadn't been stolen. I picked up another girls denim jacket as I walked out the door with the satchel I had brought from Hailsham, which was mouldy and minus one book. I had no idea what I would do, or even how far I would get, but I just wanted to get out and go. Go somewhere where I wouldn't have to say choose between my friends, or have to lay eyes on James's face ever again, or have to imagine my future ending.

"Whil? What are you doing?" Harry was curled up in a sofa chair outside the senior girls dormitory.

"Harry!" I gasped, placing my hand over my heart. "Have you been out here all night?"

"What are you doing?" he repeated, ignoring my question and getting to his feet.

I drew myself up to my full height and looked him square in the eye. "I'm going and you can't stop me."

Then I ran. Harry chased me all the way down to the courtyard, where I paused in the early morning shadows and waited for Limpy Pete to go into the kitchens.

"You're running away?" he asked, looking both excited and completely terrified.

"Yep," I nodded. "I don't want this. I didn't choose this. I'm getting the hell out."

"I'm coming with you," he stepped forward into the light and I had to yank him back in.

"What? You don't have any of your things! You're in your pyjamas, you'll stand out, they'll find you!" The immensity of what I was about to do came crashing over me like a wave. I didn't care if I got caught for my recklessness, but I didn't want Harry getting in trouble because of me. And I wasn't really sure how much I wanted him there anyway.

"I'll go and change," he turned back to go up the stairs.

"You won't have time!" I squealed in a panic.

"Wait for me," he called over his shoulder.

I saw Limpy Pete come up from the basement and make his way into the kitchens.

"Harry, I'm not going to wait for you. I'm going, and I'm going now," I said as calmly as I could manage.

He paused and stared at me, the moment finally hitting him too. He seemed to walk back over to me in slow motion, and I could see him watching his time frame grow smaller and smaller as the kitchen door clicked shut behind Limpy Pete and I prepared myself to run. Suddenly Harry grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine. I jerked in fright for an instant, before relaxing into the kiss. It felt like it was drawn out over several hours, but was actually less than a second. He broke away and pressed his forehead to mine, breathing in the moment.

"Give 'em hell for me," he said. Then he was gone.

I heard Limpy Pete's ratchety voice getting closer, so I threw my confusion aside and sprinted across the courtyard, throwing myself into the back of his lorry and diving under a tarpaulin just as the kitchen door banged open and I heard him thanking the cooks for breakfast, and then he spat it out as soon as the door was closed again. He rummaged around under the tarpaulin, and for a second I thought I had been sprung before I had even left as his hand brushed past my sneaker. But he didn't say anything and a minute later the lorry rumbled into life, and I was away.


End file.
